


clockwork.

by lycorisrxdiata



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Hate to Love, One Shot, Shameless Smut, by writing yasriv smut, dear god what have i become, hoo boy, i am here to display my sins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:36:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7237501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycorisrxdiata/pseuds/lycorisrxdiata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>& just like clockwork, they come back to each other - no matter how complicated it is. Yasuo/Riven. One-shot. Rated M for explicit sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	clockwork.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: in which i write YasRiv smut and ergo, nobody is surprised. here are some quick notes about this:
> 
> 1\. i deliberately play with their appearances; here, Yasuo has short hair and Riven has long hair. it's always been a concept i've liked more? i guess i just love the idea of reversing the 'standard' idea of what they look like.
> 
> 2\. i wanted to explore what their relationship would be on the grounds that we assume Riven was the killer, and Yasuo is indeed out for justice. i really enjoy this tension with him trying to fight her, him loathing her for what she's done, and him also realizing they share a lot of similarities and that she understands him in a way he genuinely needs ( being without a home, losing those you love, etc. ) i'm also a sucker for hatefucks turning into something a little more tender s o....
> 
> i think that's it! i hope you enjoy if you took the time to read this, and please do leave me kudos or comments so i know that you like my content!

THEY ARE just like clockwork; once a month -  every month -  they will find each other in a less public location and draw out their swords on sight. Clash of steel then ensues, their endeavor a near-silent one until they wear each other out and are left with nothing but the other's presence.   
  
Today proves no different.  
  
With all he could muster, Yasuo brings his blade forward, folded steel seeking to find her side. It is then parried; he is pushed back by one strike and forced to block the second.  
  
This is a mistake, he thinks. Though he ends up avoiding injury from the sharp of her sword, his arms begin to scream in white-hot soreness; blocking a single attack meant he must still deal with her brute force, and in doing so, has paid the price.   
  
He doesn't get it together fast enough for the third attack. His sword is knocked right out of his hands, and he, given a rough shove into tree bark.   
  
Now the gears will turn. Warmth will flood his thoughts as she settles into his lap, honeyed hands fisting short, brown locks so that his gaze met hers.   
  
What a mess. What an awful, fucking mess.  
  
"How long do you plan on wasting my time with this, ronin?" A pause. She tugs just a bit harder.  "How long will you play this losing game?"  
  
Yasuo's body aches from the fight so much that her tugs are the least of his concerns, so he will, in turn, retaliate, calloused palms digging into her thighs until the faintest hiss slips those rosied lips.   
  
"Not a losin' game if you keep on crawlin' back to me, Riven."  
  
He smirks. She seethes, though the fire in her eyes betrays a second emotion, one that becomes obvious when she gives her hips a roll into his groin.  
  
"No." A whisper, now. "You crawl back to _me_."  
  
This is a part of the clockwork, the dance. His lips & teeth are already nicking at her neck while they begin a steady grind. It was hard to hold back his throaty little chuckle.   
  
"Really, now. And what..." He gives another buck of the hips while scooting up her rag-tag dress. She can't suppress a breathy little 'fuck' in time. "...are you gonna do to prove it?"  
  
No response. Their hips still roll until he is now pressing into her, until her heat begins to sink through thin fabric...  
  
...but, the pleasant sensation building in his groin comes to a halt when she digs blunted nails into his shoulder blades.   
  
"Yasuo."  Her voice is frayed with the artifice of control, tones promising to deliver whatever threat she dare utter. "I am not your _harlot_. Do not think I am here to entertain your twisted little fantasy of a hatefuck."  
  
He returns with nothing, instead bringing one hand between her thighs so that he might move the garment to the side. A single digit will then press into slick folds, earning a poorly-subdued moan. Then -   
  
"You're not my harlot." Lips press a ( surprisingly ) gentle kiss onto the corner of her mouth, breath hitching as he hears her breath grow shallower. "Not my toy."   
  
Yasuo isn't so sure what to do with his own confession. This was supposed to be their clockwork, the fighting, the fucking. This was supposed to stay complicated; he was supposed to brood in his self-declared 'hatred' of her and continue to ignore the softer craving he had to have her at his side.   
  
The hand stills. Their foreheads meet, and he looks up into those melting pools of amber that both aggravate and infatuate.   
  
"Tell me to stop if you want this to end, Riv." Gesturing to all that they were doing. "Tell me, and you'll never see me again, not for this or the fighting."   
  
Silence stretches on, weighing down upon their shoulders until she gives a weak roll of her hips and cups his neck with the gentlest touch.   
  
"I promise. It's over the minute you - "  
  
"No." She swallows her anxieties. "No... _stay._ "  
  
Routine crumbles. She is too beautiful, too honest, too **vulnerable** ; he can only tilt his head upward so that lips meet. Fingers then spread her, thrust in so that all she can manage is a strangled gasp.   
  
And then, he caves to something animal.   
  
He wants her to fall apart. He wants her in all her mess, free hand taking away cloak & shoulder guard until he slips that little white dress down until he can palm her breasts.   
  
"Oh, mygod..."   
  
The next part is a blur caught up in the heat of it all; somewhere between her trying to stroke his shaft and his trying to finger her do they topple over with her half-sitting & thighs spread. Barely does he catch a glimpse of glistening folds before her hand guides him, head making a couple of playful little dips inside before he is engulfed by her.   
  
"Yas..."  She groans into his ear, ache palpable. Was this not, he wonders, the most holy thing he could bear witness to? "Please...I wantyou..."  
  
So he will give. Hips will roll - slow, at first - each one yielding from her sighs & moans alike. Only when neither can stand it, only when she turns from forest fire to running water in his palms does he pick up the pace.   
  
"Oh, fuck..."  
  
A messy kiss.  
  
"Riven."  
  
Again. He says it again, trying to hold in his mouth each little syllable that compromised her name. "Riven..."  
  
Skin slaps against skin, slick sounds of her growing wetness filling the air.  A trembling hand will do its best to navigate between and work her clit.   
  
"Fuckplease...in me...don'tpull out... **don't**..."  
  
He doesn't; once the taut strings _break_ , once velvet walls clench tight around him as she begins to shake, he spreads her wider. Thrusts with an erratic pace until he fills her. Until he pulls out, and his seed coats her folds.  
  
They will then fall into each other;  his hand will run down the length of her spine while she plays with his scarf. They do this in silence until they cradle close and are lulled into half-slumber.  
  
None of this had to make sense, not yet.   
  
\--  
  
Just like clockwork, they find each other. Yasuo extends a hand. Riven does so in return. When they shake -   
  
"Tell me how you got your sword. Been kickin' my ass for so long, I think I should know."


End file.
